


Merry Christmas, Gabriel

by hailparadise



Series: Merry Christmas, Gabriel!verse [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-31
Updated: 2012-12-31
Packaged: 2017-12-12 23:31:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/817323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hailparadise/pseuds/hailparadise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the Winchester's first Christmas practically as civilians. Needless to say, it doesn't exactly go how Dean planned. Set in some vague crack future post season 7.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Merry Christmas, Gabriel

**Author's Note:**

> Happy New Year everyone! Here, while you wait for 2013, have some Christmas crack. I do not own Supernatural, not even Gabriel. Unfortunately. 'Tis unbetad, so let me know any mistakes you find. Enjoy!

Dean fixed his brother with his hardest stare. Unfortunately, nothing could beat the patented puppy dog eyes that Sam was giving him in return. Dean let out a defeated sigh and dropped his head into his hands.

“Ok, Sammy. You wanting to actually celebrate Christmas this year, that I can get behind. I’m willing to play nice, eat some pie, wrap up some socks in tacky paper. But I so did not sign on for this crap.” 

Sam grinned, ignoring the words his brother was saying in favor of the tacit agreement that he knew was hidden underneath. Beaming at his brother, Sam clapped him on the shoulder and started to head out the door. 

“Thanks, Dean. Oh, and Dean? Sarah wants you to bring your boyfriend.” 

Still smiling, Sam shut the door quickly and half jogged to his car, whistling a jaunty tune to drown out the sounds of insults, swears, and work boots being flung with equal abandon at the door behind him.

...

Ok, so it’s not like when Sam finally made the decision to settle down and stop hunting, Dean didn’t think anything would change. 

In fact, he thought that more would change. He thought that his brother was going to walk out of his life again, just like when he went to Stanford. Chapter closed, final page written, closing song sung, radio silence kind of walking out of his life.

Instead, it was more like he just stepped out to buy some milk.

Sammy still called him once every few days. He ignored Dean’s protests and dragged him, kicking and screaming all the way, into the world of texting, emailing, and, though Dean will never admit it to another living soul, video chat.

Seriously, how much of a girl could his brother be?

He also talked Dean into setting up home base at Bobby’s place. At first Dean had trouble shaking off the feeling that he was stealing from the dead. He couldn’t sleep at night, even more so than usual, and found himself clinging to continuously more tenuous, and at times ludicrous, leads in an attempt to keep on the road and out of the house.

And then one night after a few too many whiskeys, Dean found himself sitting in the middle of Bobby’s trashed study, bleeding and crying, with snot running down his face like a four year old, obstinately refusing to return a trench coat to a very confused looking angel of the Lord.

But that’s another story, and one that Dean isn’t sure he’ll ever be ready to tell, even to Sam.

After that night, Cas wordlessly began showing up from time to time. Though Dean finally managed to convince him to walk in the front door rather than teleporting directly into his bathroom, the fine art of knocking still seemed to bewilder the angel. 

Dean needs to start bringing a gun into the shower.

So yeah, Cas is around some of the time now. He even brings Dean stuff. Weird relics, old books, and after Dean managed to convince him that he didn’t really want any of that crap, he even brought pie.

That was pretty freaking awesome.

But it’s not like Cas is his boyfriend. No way. And that isn’t because Dean is homophobic, no matter what Sam thinks. For a start, for Cas to be his boyfriend, Dean is pretty sure that Cas would actually have to be a boy rather than an older than fuck sexless celestial being of wrath.

Also, the dude still kind of scares him shitless. 

But that doesn’t mean that Dean doesn’t like having Cas around. It’s kinda nice, with Sam being halfway across the country and all, to have someone else to talk to. Someone to be able to call for help on the trickier hunts. And if that someone can drink him under the table and doesn’t mind when Dean watches nothing but telenovellas, porn, Clint Eastwood and Doctor Sexy as long as he gets to watch his Saturday morning cartoons, well, that’s just an added bonus.

And then Sammy found that Sarah girl again from the case of the haunted picture.

Sometimes even his thoughts sound like the titles of Hardy Boy novels. It makes Dean want to throw up in his mouth a little bit.

Moving on. 

Sam wouldn’t talk about what happened with Amelia in the end. Dean was pretty sure that after Amelia and Jess, Sam had just given up on the possibility of ever being happy. So he stopped trying to find the girl and settle down into the life he always wanted. He got a job, bought a house, and took up knitting.

Well, Dean isn’t really sure about that last part. That’s just how he pictures it. 

But the point is, Sam had stopped looking for some fairy tale future. He settled. And that’s when Sarah found him.

Fast forward 4 months. First date (sort of), first kiss (again, not really) Sam sells the house, throws away the knitting needles, and carts himself and his girlfriend back to South Dakota, because it turns out that Sarah had bought her own antique shop there.

Dean may or may not have cried when Sam told him the news. No one would be able to tell. Cas was too busy trying to determine the function of a potato masher at the moment to notice.

I guess angels of the Lord can mash potatoes solely using the power of their brains.

But the point is, now Sammy and Sarah are living less than an hour away, and while Dean has a pretty much live in badass backup for his hunts, he finds himself spending more time tooling around the house and salvage yard, and taking confusing household implements away from Cas.

Seriously. Some things just aren’t worth the time it would take to explain.

So Dean knew that some things would change. And when Sammy dropped by to tell him that he and Sarah were traveling back to New York to spend Christmas with her family, Dean struggled to hide the stab of disappointment he felt rising up in his gut. 

It’s not like Christmas had ever been a big deal to them. It’s not like they had traditions to celebrate, or baby’s first Christmas ornaments to break out every year.

They just had knives and eggnog. 

But that being said, this would be their first Christmas practically as civilians. Dean was beginning to dare to think that they could begin to build some of those traditions themselves. 

And luckily for Dean, Sarah’s parents seemed to be on the same page. 

Sam explained to Dean that Sarah had told her parents that Sam really didn’t have much family and they felt guilty leaving them all alone on Christmas. Sarah’s parents, rather than taking the polite refusal for what it was, instead insisted that Sam bring Dean and his boyfriend along.

That’s right, boyfriend. Apparently, seeing them living together (which they totally weren’t), Sarah had just assumed. And Sam, being the giant bitch that he is, decided not to correct her. By the time Dean caught wind of this weeks later, the damage had already been done. 

But Dean was on board. He was willing to play nice. If there was anything Dean knew how to do, it was charm the pants off of girl’s parents.

And that only literally happened that one time in Tennessee. But Dean doesn’t tell that story either.

So even though Dean wasn’t trying to sleep with Sarah, he was confident his skills could still apply. Even if part of charming them included letting them believe that he was in a romantic relationship with a scary ass winged being who could burn people’s eyes out of their skulls.

Which he totally was not.

He would smile, not get too drunk, laugh at all their jokes, compliment their pie and then all of them could be one their merry way back home where Dean could finally explain to Cas why exactly humans celebrated Christmas by shoving pine branches up Angel’s asses. 

But no, alas, that was not to be. In addition to all of this other holiday cheer crap, Sam let Dean know that when they arrived on Christmas Eve, they had to look presentable. Because the first order of business was to go watch Sarah’s little cousins in the Christmas pageant at their church.

Church. Christmas pageant in a church. Dean was going to have to:

A. Walk into a church without there, theoretically, being anything demonic to slay.

B. Drag his Angel of the Lord not boyfriend into said church with him.

C. Watch his giant bitch of a brother’s girlfriend’s cousin play an angel or Jesus or some shit.

D. With an angel.

E. Sitting next to him.

F. Pretending to be his boyfriend.

G. In a church.

Dean could only hope that this church served actual wine for communion. 

...

“I do not understand.” Sam leaned over Sarah to see what Cas was looking at.

“Oh, that’s the bulletin. It tells us what we need to say and stuff during the service.” Cas gave Sam an exasperated look that Dean did not at all under any circumstances find cute.

Seriously.

“Yes, I understand that. I read every language known to man, and a number that are no longer known. I’m reasonably certain I can decipher one folded piece of paper. I merely do not understand why these humans’ names are listed next to types of animals.”

Dean choked back his laughter.

“Dude, it just means those kids are playing animals in the play. See, that’s one of Sarah’s cousins playing the Donkey.” Dean pointed to the paper. Cas stared at him blankly.

“Why are there animals in this play, Dean?”

“Shit, Cas, ” 

“Dean!” Sam hissed, looking over at Sarah’s parents worriedly. Dean ignored him.

“I don’t know, weren’t there animals in the barn and stuff where Jesus was born? You know, the cattle or mowing and all that shit?”

“Lowing.”

“What?”

“The song states the cattle are lowing, Dean, not mowing.” Cas sounded thoroughly disgusted. Sam snorted with laughter.

“Yeah Dean, I’m pretty sure that cattle weren’t capable of using lawn mowers back then.” Cas turned his dagger eyes of doom to Sam and Sarah who quickly got themselves back under control.

“I fail to see how any of this is relevant to the birth of Christ. These songs you sing are full of many fallacious details, not the least of which being that the Christ child was born in a barn full of animals that somehow knew and respected the great power that he represented.” Dean was a little taken aback by the venom in his friend’s voice. He decided it was time to settle him down. People would start staring soon.

“It’s just a song, Cas.”

“To you, it’s just a song, Dean. But what you fail to realize is that by anthropomorphizing animals in this way you are placing yourselves on the same level as them,”

“I don’t think that’s true, Cas” Sam started.

“And you are so much more than the mud monkeys that Uriel always accused you of being.” Cas concluded, staring fixedly at his hands in his lap. Sam and Dean shared a worried look over his head. 

“It’s ok, man. Just chill out. We can talk about this later, ok?” 

“I do not want to talk about this later, Dean, I do not want to be here at all.” Cas choked out. Dean put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“It’s ok, dude. We can go wait in the car.” Dean shot a bewildered look at Sam and Sarah as he stood to lead Cas out.

As they passed one set of doors into the little entryway of the church, Cas suddenly stopped and turned to Dean. 

“I apologize, Dean. I overreacted. I was merely made uncomfortable by the nature of this storytelling.” 

Dean smiled crookedly.

“It’s ok, man. If I knew Jesus I’d probably be pretty bent out of shape about him being played by some random fat human baby, too.” Cas looked surprised.

“No, Dean, it’s not that. Jesus would be honored to be represented in such a way.” Cas hesitated and glanced down at the paper half crumpled in his hands. “I merely doubted my ability to contain my reaction to Sarah’s cousin and didn’t want to cause her family any distress.” Dean’s brow furrowed.

“Wait a minute. The donkey?”

Their conversation was interrupted by a blast of freezing air as the door to the church opened and a frazzled looking family rushed inside. Dean flushed as he realized how close he and Cas had been standing with his hand still on his friend’s shoulder. The father spared them a distracted and apologetic smile and he herded his children into the church proper. Dean cleared his throat awkwardly and took a step back, dropping his hands to his sides. Cas continued to look at him intently.

“No, Dean. Her other cousin.” Dean wordlessly took the bulletin from Cas and scanned the back. Suddenly, he understood.

“Gabriel. Sarah’s cousin is playing Gabriel.” Cas nodded.

“Yes, Dean. The thought of watching a representation of my brother made me uncomfortable. It made me sad.” Cas hesitated. “I am still not accustomed to feeling emotions of this strength. I find that I cannot curtail them as well as you can.”

“I totally understand.” Dean found himself interrupted yet again by another cold blast of air as the church door swung open. But this time there was no one on the other side. Dean irritably swung the door shut as the candles around them began to flicker.

Dean started to talk again, but was distracted by the absorbed way that Castiel was watching the candles.

“Cas?”

“Dean. These are electric candles. They should not have been affected by the door in that way.” Dean furrowed his brow and turned his attention to the candles as well. They flickered steadily. Just as Dean was about to brush it off as a fluke the candle flames began to jerk wildly, exactly in time to the tune of Silent Night floating out of the church.

“Dean ...”

“Cas ...”

“Are those candles ...”

“Dancing?” Dean and Cas looked at each other, and then wordlessly moved into the back of the church, both scanning the assembled audience and actors for anything out of the usual.

Not that Dean really knew what the usual looked like in a church when half of the children were hitting each other with their shepherd’s staffs. But he figured he could make a pretty good guess.

Just as Dean began to turn to Cas and tell him it was a false alarm, they heard a telltale gasp. Dean automatically began striding up the center aisle, reaching for the knife that he knew wasn’t there, that Sam had threatened him on pain of death that there was no way he could take in the church, so now he of course needed it to save innocent lives, when Cas grabbed him by the arm, eyes glazed in shock as he stared at the front of the church.

Where Dean looked to see a dozen small children dressed as barnyard animals confusedly milling around as they looked at the dozen little toy lawn mowers that had suddenly appeared out of nowhere.

Most of them were the ball kind, where when you pushed it the rainbow colored balls it made a little ‘pop popping’ sound.

But as Sarah’s cousin the donkey gleefully discovered, a couple were bubble mowers, that when pushed, blew soap bubbles directly at the baby Jesus.

“Are those animals mowing?” Sarah asked in shock.

A sheep abandoned ship and ran squealing maniacally down the aisle, showering the congregation with soap bubbles.

Dean decided he needed to sit down again. 

“Gabriel!” Cas shouted, still standing in the middle of the aisle like a buffoon.

Ok, now they got the stares that Dean had been afraid of. So much for sitting down. Dean quickly stood back up and dragged Cas out of the church; Sam and Sarah following close behind.

“Cas, man, I know things are getting a little freaky in there, but you don’t seriously think that Gabriel could be behind this.”

“What, Gabriel, as in the angel Gabriel?” Sarah was sounding slightly panicked. Who come blame her? Come to think of it, Dean wasn’t sure that anyone had actually ever told her that Cas was an angel.

That maybe should have been the first order of business. 

“Yes, my brother Gabriel.”

“Wait, your brother?” Sarah’s voice raised another half octave. Sam distractedly put his hand over her mouth.

“Uh, guys? I’m pretty sure the baby Jesus just pooped purple glitter.” 

“And rainbows.” Dean said, again feeling like sitting down might soon be necessary.

And for the third time that night the door to the church flung open with a snap.

“Hey, bro. Did you miss me?”

...

After Gabriel’s entrance everything remained quiet for approximately 12.8 seconds. Then everyone began talking at once.

“Rainbows and glitter?”

“What can I say, Dean-o, your mowing comment was too inspiring to pas up.”

“Your boyfriend’s an angel?”

“Boyfriend!”

“Shut up, Gabriel.” 

“Rainbows and glitter?”

“Didn’t your mother ever teach you to speak nicely of the recently deceased?”

“Recently? Gabriel, you’ve been dead for years.”

“Kiddo, when you’ve been around as long as Cassie and I have, that is recent.”

“No, seriously, rainbows and glitter?!”

And then Cas, who had up until now been silent, shocked everyone by wordlessly stepping forward and wrapping his arms around Gabriel. Gabriel chuckled wetly, and patted Cas awkwardly on the back.

“Merry Christmas, Cassie.” Cas released him and stepped back, his face again an impassive mask.

“Now put everything back.” 

“Aww, come on, Castiel. The kids playing angels haven’t even figured out those things can actually fly yet. Maybe we should go push one off the balcony.” 

“Dean!” Sam snapped, slapping Dean on the back of the head as he started to walk toward the stairs leading up.

“What, Sammy! You heard Gabe, it’s not like they would actually be hurt.” 

“We are not pushing an 8 year old off a balcony!” 

“Ahem!” The mismatched group of angels, hunters, and girlfriends, turned, seemingly in slow motion to the small, mousy looking man standing in the archway.

“Excuse me. Christmas is a wonderful time for a family reunion, but I was wondering perhaps if you could take this outside? I’m afraid no one can hear King Herod threatening the Wise Men over your plans to fling our children fifteen feet in the air.”

“I’m so sorry.” Sarah whispered, sounding strained.

“Yeah, sorry father.” 

“Not a priest, Dean. This is a Congregationalist church.” Sam muttered, as he slunk out the door. Dean gave Sarah a shrug. 

“Well, we can definitely mark this down as a memorable Christmas.” Sarah gave him a rueful smile as she held the door for him.

“Maybe next year we can have Christmas at your place, ok Dean?”

And the Church door closed, leaving two angels unseen in the back, watching as the children somehow magically got themselves back under control to sing Hark the Herald Angels Sing.

“Merry Christmas, Gabriel.” Gabriel smiled and put his arm around his brother’s shoulders. The baby Jesus sneezed and sprayed one of the shepherds with purple glitter. 

“Oh, gross!” 

“Merry Christmas, bro.”

**Author's Note:**

> I am always looking for prompts of any kind, but especially if they will fit into this verse. Come visit my tumblr (sir-dies-a-lot), and I would love to have a chat. :)


End file.
